


The Death of a Matriarch

by koalanose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalanose/pseuds/koalanose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a short drabble I wrote based off of relationships within a roleplay. I hope everything makes sense, and though I don't plan to write that much more or revamp this completely, criticism is welcome~.</p></blockquote>





	The Death of a Matriarch

Jim finds out on a Sunday.   
The letter came with the rest of the post on the Friday before, and left him puzzled. He'd been gone for quite awhile already, staying with Sebastian Moran in London. He'd never received anything from his mother, all this time, he had hoped she didn't even know where he was.  
He could count the words on the page on one hand, but they were more worrying than anything longer could have been.

Goodbye. -M♥

The letter rarely left his hands. Not once was it out of his sight Friday, nor Saturday, and he gripped it on Sunday when he let himself back into his home in Dublin. The house was quiet and dark, and no panic came to him, not like usual.   
They were only there because he had begged. In reality Sebastian would have taken them had he only asked, but Jim was much too desperate to keep himself relaxed. It was easier to convince Richard as well if he made his case in such a manner, since both twins knew their childhood home was the last place they wanted to be.

Something was wrong and the ink on the paper felt acidic to the touch. It burned in Jims pocket the whole car ride to the airport, and he was silent the whole plane ride to Dublin. The weather was nice, the sun warm on their backs. Despite the winter chill, Jim felt as if he were taking the trip in the middle of summer. No one spoke a word when they pulled up to the house, not a sound murmured when Jim slipped the key out from under the mound of dirt by the mailbox and opened the door.   
Richard and Sebastian followed, but Jim was first. He relived every room, every memory pushing at his skull as he searched. He opened every door, and yet left his old bedroom untouched. He skipped it, as well as their bathroom in which he had almost been drowned many a time, and went right to his mothers bedroom at the very end of the hall. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, his mother lying motionless in the bed, as beautiful and calm as he’d left her, had of course been what he knew was coming. Jim had always thought his mother beautiful, a raging storm kept behind unbreakable glass. The woman that had never (or so he thought), could never, love him. He pressed two fingers to her neck, the similar skin molding under his own. A bit of the extra flesh bunched up by her chin and her age became visible in the wrinkles there. A moment passed. The fact she hadn’t awoken already was a clear sign, but Jim didn’t care to believe that. There was only one thing he would accept as tangible truth of what was in front of him, and it came to him in the next instant.   
No pulse.   
Jim’s eyes became dark and angry, the storm that plagued his mothers mind transferring to that of her son. He turned to find Richard and Sebastian behind him, but he didn't dare look into their faces. Richard deserved to be in the room, to see his mother, but Jim didn't care. He shoved both of them backward until they were out into the hall, the door slamming closed before them.   
He locked it and walked around the bed, and if there was pounding on the old wood, he didn’t bother to hear it. He climbed up into the empty spot next to Mabel, where a husband hadn’t slept for seven years. He lifted the covers, moved the arms of a dead woman, and curled into her side. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there, but eventually Sebastian opened the door. Wooden doors weren’t strong, and the house was old. He probably could have opened it right after it had been closed, yet he had waited. Jim appreciated the gesture.   
If Richard and Sebastian were more vocal with their distress or opinion of his position, Jim didn’t notice. Everything after they came in was a blur to him. Someone had their hands on his shoulders, Richard was crying, and at one point, Jim thinks he was crying too. He doesn’t remember hiding his face, letting the tears slip freely down the round, childlike planes of his cheeks.   
Eventually they’re back in London, back in their nest, in what Jim thought was  _home_ , and one look at his mobile says it’s already been three days. He leaves his room and asks Sebastian if she’s been properly buried.  
He promises him she has. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short drabble I wrote based off of relationships within a roleplay. I hope everything makes sense, and though I don't plan to write that much more or revamp this completely, criticism is welcome~.


End file.
